


What if (I told you I liked you?)

by withered



Series: liminal space [27]
Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Forgive me I was compelled by a vaguely horny ghost, Hichigo is a GREAT wingman, Jealousy, Making Out, Multi, a little non-con, not quite a threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28529625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withered/pseuds/withered
Summary: The first time Ichigo ever kisses Rukia, it isn't actually Ichigo.
Relationships: Hollow Ichigo | Zangetsu/Kuchiki Rukia, Kuchiki Rukia/Kurosaki Ichigo
Series: liminal space [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1413535
Comments: 21
Kudos: 74





	What if (I told you I liked you?)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AriadneKurosaki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriadneKurosaki/gifts).



> I was lurking on the ichiruki discord -- as one does -- and ended up coming across an INTRIGUING dynamic, I very foolishly hadn't considered before, so Ari, this is for you~

The first time Ichigo ever kisses Rukia, it isn't actually Ichigo.

She's just come back from Soul Society, at the personal request from her brother to deal with a personal matter regarding the Kuchiki family about an alliance, a marriage; hers.

"It hasn't been decided yet," she told Ichigo when he'd asked how her visit to the other side had gone, and she'd dropped _that_ bombshell on him. "They still have to make a formal announcement. There's preliminary interviews, discussions with the elders, securing Byakuya-nii-sama's approval," she ticks off, focusing on aligning the tomatoes so she could cut it efficiently. "It'll be some time yet before anything is really decided on."

Ichigo splutters, scolding, "Don't say it so casually!"

"Why not?" Rukia asks, her tongue sticking out at the corner of her mouth as she focused on getting the rest of the vegetables cut for their dinner, and reciting,"I am nii-sama's heir, I play an important role in the continuation of the Kuchiki clan. Building alliances through marriage is just one of the ways I can serve the family."

Tightly, he asks in returns, "So, you'll just get married to whoever they line up for you, is that it?"

At that she scoffs, "Despite what you think, they aren't barbaric. Besides, nii-sama would never allow it. I'd have to meet the suitors they approve, choose from the group of them the elders deem...acceptable."

"And you'd be okay with that?" Ichigo persisted.

Rukia is used to duty, used to orders, and even though she hesitates, her answer is still, "Of course."

With those words though, Ichigo spins her around, the knife she'd been cutting with clattering against the chopping board and onto the floor as Ichigo cages her against the counter with his hips. "Is that so?"

Startled, she blinks at him in surprise. "Ichi --"

Tilting her chin up to meet his gaze properly, bearing her throat to the absent trace of his fingers, Rukia realizes with a sharp intake of breath that Ichigo's eyes are the wrong color. Her conclusion must show on her face because not-Ichigo smirks something slow, something dangerous. "Not quite, your highness."

She settles her hands on his waist to edge him off, though as typical of her encounters with Ichigo's Hollow, he's an immovable object.

Unlike when she encounters him at Urahara's basement and the Soul Society training grounds, he doesn't melt the colors away to announce his presence. It's still the soft orange flare of Ichigo's hair shadowing his eyes, still his tanned skin crinkling in the corners of his expression; its just his eyes, startling gold against an inky backdrop; the deep cadence of his voice.

"What do you want?" Rukia asks, brows furrowed, confused. "Why did you take Ichigo?"

Hichigo hums; steps forward so that he's worked a thigh between her legs, and bows his head until their foreheads are touching. "Because he let me."

Her brows knit, and against the folded skin, he kisses her there; playful, scolding. Despite herself, Rukia swallows, her face warming. Hichigo tsks. "You know how it goes, my queen. Ichigo isn't very good at pushing me back down when he's upset. I mean," he pauses to chuckle, to nuzzle his nose against her hair and press his knee a little more insistently between her thighs. "He's upset now too since I've come out. Since I'm touching you in a way he can only imagine doing."

Despite herself, Rukia shivers. The vibration of Hichigo's thoughtful hum moving from her temple to her neck. She gasps then, feeling his tongue, the tease of his teeth, her hips jerked against his; sparks of heat prickling up her spine that he fans with a firm rocking forward of his thighs.

"He's upset," Hichigo tells her in a conspiratorially whisper, "that you're here looking like this, looking at me and feeling this good for me, and not him."

Gathering herself as best as she can, Rukia notches her chin so that he's meeting her eyes again, uncaring that her pupils have probably swallowed up the color of her own eyes. "Well, if he'd come out here himself, I'm sure we can fix that."

Gaze flickering, gold to brown to gold-gold-gold, Hichigo smiles, indulgent, "But see, if I let him out now, he might just brush this whole thing off. Pretend I'm the only one that wants you."

"Don't you?"

He chuckles. "I do, but so does he. I'm...an echo, of his greatest fears, his greatest desires, and _oh_ , how we want you, your highness."

"And he can't just tell me this himself?" Rukia would have scornfully asked if not for the way her eyes are fluttering, her heart is racing.

At that, Hichigo snorts. "Now, you know him better than that. Know us, better than that." And, "If I'd let him, he'd let you go off and get married to someone else without doing a damn thing to convince you otherwise." Then, almost darkly, "He can pretend to be okay imagining you with someone that wasn't us, but I'm not."

With wavering control, her hips press against his. "And what about what I want?" Rukia challenges in a near whisper.

"Oh, he's tortured himself with those possibilities," Hichigo dismisses, "but they are, after all, just possibilities." Almost casually rolling his hips, his eyes flashing sharper, biting his lip so they look a little redder. And Rukia. Rukia wants --

"You should let him back out so he can speak for himself. I won't...I won't let him hide what he feels anymore."

Thoughtfully, Hichigo hums. "Now, where's the fun in that, hmm? I know what you feel as well as you know how I feel." Pressing slow, playful kisses across her cheeks, Hichigo says, "Besides, I think we should make him watch what happens when he doesn't fight for who he wants, don't you think, Rukia?" And, "We should show him what happens when someone else can get your attention." Then, almost musingly, pressing his thigh firmer against her, encouraging her to grind back and smiling in satisfaction when she does, when she flushes and sighs. "And I do have your attention, don't I? Not just because I have his face, but because I could give you what you're aching for."

Inches from her lips, he asks, "May I?"

It didn't take anything at all to close the distance, for Rukia to sigh into his mouth, to let him in. 

Hichigo kisses exactly how she thought he would; demanding, taking. He nips her lip, and swipes his tongue like he was claiming it, and holds her tight enough to bruise. And she gives it as good as she takes it, pulling him close with claws and tugging off buttons as a result, wrapping her legs tight around his hips as he lifts her onto the counter he cleared with an impatient swipe of his hand, and running her nails down his scalp and moaning, broken and pleading, "Hichigo, please..."

"Do you want him back, my queen?"

It takes her awhile to answer, to gather the scattered brain cells to say, "Only if he joins us."

Into the curve of her neck, Hichigo chuckled and affectionately nipped her skin. "We do have excellent taste."

And it was night and day feeling Ichigo's lips on her skin, on her neck, his voice breathless and rough with apology, with wanting, "Fuck, fuck, Rukia. I'm sorry, I didn't mean --"

She pushes him gently away so she can sit properly on the counter, though when he tried to step further, she tightened her thighs around his. Flushed with heat and still tingling from the contact, Rukia asks, "Was it true?"

Ichigo swallows audibly. A few buttons of his shirt were missing, his blush warms his chest as well as it does his cheeks. There's an unmistakable bulge pressing against her thigh. He clamps his jaw, tries to blink back the way his pupils dilate at the sight of her so ruined from his hands and Hichigo's intent, swallows again, and says, "He can't lie."

"He can twist the truth," Rukia points out. "Was he?" And when Ichigo can only open and close his mouth, failing to find words even as he grabs and releases her thighs, her skirt flipped over and high enough on her waist that he can see how wet she's become, soaking through her underwear. Rukia watched him struggle, and with mercy and cruelty in one, she said, "Did you like watching him touch me? Because I did."

And at that, Ichigo's breathing is stuttered and ragged and loud.

"Have you imagined it before? Touched yourself to the thought of Hichigo surfacing to claim me when you were too afraid to? Or did you imagine us, all three, together? You can tell us," Rukia prods gently, teasing as she reaches for the buttons still stubbornly holding his shirt together and undid them, one by one. "Hichigo doesn't seem to mind sharing."

"What about you?" Ichigo asks, his voice low, his eyes dark and magnetized to her, like he can't see anything else. Like he doesn't want to. He watched her lick her lips like he wanted nothing more for her to take him apart with just her mouth.

Rukia smiles. "There's no you without him, and no him without you. There's no choosing."

His mouth twitches, and he growls, "What about your family, this. Arranged marriage they want you to be in. Would you choose one of them?"

With an impatient tug to pull him forward, almost lip to lip, Ichigo breathes easier, his gaze going fond, covetous.

"Say the word," Rukia tells them, their lips brush in a tease of a kiss, "There'll be no choice if it's you."

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's not much but I wrote this in an hour and I'm not entirely sorry
> 
> ALSO, so sorry, I uploaded the fic before edits because brain fart


End file.
